Colours
by KumoAmeYouKAI
Summary: Five brothers, each with their own stupendous power, lost their entire family when they were children. Now, years later, after arduous training, they’ve come to seek revenge on the world, and only five brave souls stand in their way.
1. White: Brother One

Colours

White: Brother One

-Existence 1 of 2-

A lone rider drove his horse to the brink of its existence, the foam coming in torrents from the animal's mouth. He heaved and groaned, the hoof clops like thunder against the stones. The man kept his head down and away from the thorns that colonized the tree branches above him. Already he had wounds and scratches on his armour and body. The forest loomed in dark green smears as the horse and tamer sped by.

An axe drove itself into a tree next to the rider's head and his horse reared in terror. With a grunt of surprise, the man fell from his horse's back and watched him fall as an arrow pierced his neck. The man struggled to his feet, clutching a wound on his thigh. He fell, his feet refusing his actions. A bony hand reached out of the darkness and gripped the man's neck, holding him high off the ground, his toes barely grazing the forest floor.

A second later, the body of an undead skeleton slid into view, the leering, controlled eyes like tiny candle flames in dark bowls of ink. The full moon glinted off the armour of the man; a sun set into the metal shone brilliantly. The yellow-boned skeleton grimaced at the radiant sight before clenching its fingers tighter still, feeling the bones in the man's neck snap into pieces before dropping him unceremoniously to the forest floor, his task complete. A sound emanated from the bushes nearby and the skeleton turned to glare at the source with its beady red eyes.

Another man stood up from the brush, gaping at the undead entity, ignoring the harsh, rotten smell it emitted. He howled like a dog and pulled a club from his belt. Without second thought, he charged the undead beast, throwing his weight into all his blows, paying no heed to the thorns at his face and neck, his mind only on his dead comrade. Within a few arduous minutes, the monster lay in bone fragments on the ground.

Panting, the man knelt by his fallen comrade. He silently drew the sign of Pelor over his chest, praying for his entrance to the afterlife.

Standing, the man replaced his club. A rock kicked somewhere in the distance. Swiveling, he came face to face with a man in a long, black cloak. Empty, white eyes peered from under a large-brimmed hat. Thin, white hands that seemed to have the flesh stretched tightly across the bones withdrew from the safety of its master's cloak. The man's breath hitched. Shaking, he pulled out his crossbow and fumbled an arrow into the slot. He took aim, his hand trembling terribly.

A high-pitched chuckle escaped the black-clad man's throat.

"Who-who are you?!" The man screamed, trying in vain to clench his bow steady. He stepped in front of his dead comrade's body, prepared to protect its remains.

"I am Dirk, but you may call me White." The blank eyes creased upwards; underneath the cape's tall, black collar, the man was smiling some feral smile.

"Why tell me your name, Dirk, if that IS your name?" Another chuckled reached the warrior's ears and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in waves. Something just didn't seem right. The old man snapped his bony, long-nailed fingers. The warrior had braced himself, trying to prepare for fighting off a spell, but no sensations came.

"Looks like your spell failed, old man! Now prepare to meet your demise!" He aimed and cocked the arrow, but faltered in confusion as the old man spoke.

"Ah, ah, ah…look behind you, friend."

"Huh?-Ah!" The man cried out in pain as the body of his friend pierced flesh with his sword, controlled by the trickster in the cloak.

The zombie twisted the sword in the man's chest and pulled down, splitting the skin all the way to his abdomen. It ignored the yells of protest as the man tried to stop his former friend. Torrents of blood, guts and organs spilled out of the huge slice, but the zombie ignored it all as it reached into what was once the man's stomach.

The old man cackled with glee as he watched his new servant reach into the chest cavity, twist, and pull out the former man's heart. It fell to the ground as the only living thing left in the clearing relinquished his control over the soldier's dead body. With a dull thud, the zombie fell and didn't move again.

"That was fun! Let's see what other plans can be damaged tonight." Dirk removed his hat and long tresses of silver flowed from beneath the brim.

"So many choices." White said before changing his shape. His hair melted from silver to black and shortened to ear-length. The sallow skin seemed to melt away before it was replaced with a healthy tan. He gained height and shoulder width before turning on his heel and venturing past the moonlit glade.

-Existence 2 of 2-

"What will we gain if we do not take action? This new menace is going to terrorize these towns unless we do something! Already there has been-!" Chenkin yelled, slamming his fist down onto the elders' table. He'd been arguing his point to the stubborn Elder's council for nearly two hours with no avail. With that thing on the loose -What had he called himself: White? Chenkin tried to remember the vague detail- , several had been killed in the forests and their bodies not recovered. Only one had survived and he had said the word 'white' upon his rescue, though remained mute since.

"Silence! We will not tolerate this impaired idea of yours!" An elder in a white cloak grunted menacingly back. Chenkin did not flinch under his stone glare. Another white-clothed elder spoke up. His voice was softer, younger, more soothing in demand.

"And what will we do? We have no idea what this thing is doing to kill its victims and we've no idea where he'll strike next. The most we can do until we retrieve further information is to build the defenses around the city."

"I understand that, but-!"

"You are dismissed. It is simply against the point to gather forces together against an enemy we know nothing of." Chenkin glared in disbelief before wiping his forehead and bowing respectfully.

"I understand."

"Zhoomerstah, Chenkin, you are discharged." An elder said, his voice rough with age and wisdom.

Chenkin left the room, his spirits dampened. Quickly, he trod through the great hall where huge stained glass windows shone, fierce sculptures of heroes and dragons stood regally, like guardians, and magnificent tapestries loomed above him, but they were ignored. He walked past the stark, white walls of the temple the elders resided in and back into the harsh sunlight.

Sidestepping a vendor's cart, Chenkin's disappointment budded into anger. The elders hadn't even paid attention to his viewpoint! Hs family was in danger and bunch of old farts were NOT going to sit in his way, even if it meant having to hunt White by himself.

A few foot-stomping minutes through the quickly dying town near the end of the afternoon quickly calmed Chenkin and his head cleared of irrationalities again.

'If I'm going to defeat this necromancer, I'll definitely need help. But Gwyn can't help, what with her condition and certainly Sariah cannot even be considered; she's only five. I'll need to find other willing people to help me. It probably won't be easy to find people keen to risk their lives, but what else can I do?' Chenkin mused. A black cloud of crows swooped and dove above him and he intently watched, plotting as he walked.

Before he produced a plan, his feet led him home, to dinner and his wife and child.

Softly, he stepped into the house and stared lovingly at the sight that befell him. Sariah, his small, five-year-old child sat gaily on the rug, playing enthusiastically with her rag and rice doll. Her childish gibber and dialogue made him smile and laugh. And there she was: Gwyn, the love of his life. She, a fellow gnome, was leaning over a dancing fire, cooking her family's dinner, her belly protruding gently from her dress. He pranced over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Chuckling she stood up tall.

"Hello Chenkin. Any luck with the elders today?" She understood so little of their problem; Chenkin didn't want to frighten her in her precious pregnancy.

"No, they refused. They're all so stone-headed." He sighed, "What's the point of inviting people to share their ideas if they decline them all?" Chenkin collapsed on a chair in the kitchen and was immediately attacked by a small girl.

"Daddy! You're home! We're having vegetable soup for dinner! Mommy showed me how to make a new doll and I'm going to make another one tomorrow so the first one can have a friend!" Her seemingly endless babble cheered Chenkin and he felt better than he had all day.

All through dinner, Chenkin and Gwyn chatted and listened to their daughter, having to stop smiling only once to tell Sariah not to flick her food to make it stick on the wall. Eventually night fell completely and a pale moon smiled down upon the small family.

Kissing his daughter goodnight, Chenkin departed for his own bedroom, where Gwyn was already waiting in bed. Plopping down on the double bed, he blew out the lamp on the stand next to his bed and wrapped his arms around Gwyn. She shifted and turned to face him.

"What did you go to the elders for today? It must have been bad, or you would have just thought up a way to solve it on your own. Is there something wrong with our land or our presence in the town? Are we doing something bad?" Chenkin kissed her forehead gently.

"No. We are fine. Don't worry about it, Gwyn. Just get your rest, for yourself and our child." He heard Gwyn snort.

"Chicken-honey, what's the matter?"

"I hate it when you say that!" Chenkin exclaimed. Gwyn had a tendency to call him Chicken-honey when she wanted to know something.

"Come on, Chicken-honey. You can tell me."

"Tomorrow. Now is not appropriate." Chenkin murmured. Sighing, Gwyn snuggled up to Chenkin, her face nosed between his neck and shoulder. Lovingly, Chenkin traced his hand across her swollen belly. She drifted into a light slumber.

The next morning, Chenkin awoke revived, his arms empty. He grunted a little before finally rolling over and successfully off the bed. Covered in a heap of blankets, he groaned and pulled the covers back over his head and standing up, running his hand through his disgruntled hair.

"Gwyn! Sariah!" He called. Receiving no answer, he walked curiously out into the main room with the kitchen and living room combined. It was deserted.

"They're probably outside playing or something. I hope Gwyn doesn't run or over-exert herself." Chenkin muttered to himself. Lumbering sleepily out of his doorway, he noticed a note on the table. Yawning, he picked it up and his eyes scanned it. He became awake.

"No…Gwyn! Gwyn! Sariah! Answer me!" He ran back into his room and pulled some pants on, then ran outside, the already warm sun beat upon his back.

"GWYN! SARIAH! THIS HAS TO BE A JOKE! COME OUT! Please…" In despair, Chenkin clenching his fists and stalked out through the meadow in front of his house and scrambled atop the hill that sat not too far away. He looked into the distance, praying that he would see Gwyn and Sariah come up that hill, playing, and everything would be okay. Something cruel deep in his mind told him to stop dreaming.

A few frantic moments later, Chenkin slung his bow across his chest and admired himself in the mirror in his bedroom. He looked neat and prepared. Chain-mail armour glinted on his chest and his silver quiver of iron winked at him in the mirror. His clothes underneath were a plain pair of trousers and a white shirt. Chenkin read the note that was left for him three more times.

_My dear Chenkin,_

_My, my, aren't we being quite nosy? I trust you shall stop interfering within my business as long as your wife and daughter are being punished for your recklessness? And if you admit yourself any further, your wife's pregnancy will come to an abrupt end._

_With my greatest wishes,_

_White_

Chenkin crumpled the note in his fist and threw it on the floor and stormed out the front door and into the sweltering afternoon sun, his pack already heavy on his back. He whispered a quick prayer to Fharlagn.

"I'm coming for you, White!" He yelled in enragement. Whistling curtly, he waited only a few seconds before a white mare trotted gaily over the meadow grass.

It took Chenkin all of twelve minutes to saddle her up and ride into the dust, his hopes already high and set for the return of his family.

----------------------------------------------------

-Chenkin Zhoomerstah is pronounced Chin-ken zoo-mer-stay

A/N: This is only my second D&D fiction. My third will be arriving shortly called 'Twin Blade'. I hope you like these and if I make any mistakes, such as spelling or religion or magic-wise, please tell me. I'm still trying to get in the hang of using magic, having just become a sorcerer in my D&D game. Anyway, enjoy and tell me what you think, either positive or negative.

And I apologize heartily for not updating my other fiction, 'A Tale of Unknown' for all those who wish for an update. It will be coming shortly as well. It should be uploaded and ready to go. If you haven't read it, please do and tell me what you think. Advice is something I'll never have enough of.


	2. Information

Colours

Red: Brother Two  
-Existence 1 of 2-

"Bobin! Hey Bobin! Stop for minute! I have to talk to you!" A huge half-orc in heavy, spike-studded metal armour lumbered onto the grassy field, watching his friend run laps. Bobin was sweating and panting by the time he reached Jeshin, the half-orc. Shaking his head, Bobin looked up at him and started walking towards the center of the yellowing meadow, hearing Jeshin's awkward footsteps as he followed behind.

"What is it, Jeshin? Usually you don't track me down in the Thigari forest unless it's important. Something must have happened. Share it." Bobin walked slowly, both to catch his breath and to allow time for explanations. He was surprised to hear Jeshin let out a rough snarl.

"Some wielder of magic has caused disaster on my people in the mountains! We have created peace and kept to ourselves so he has no reasoning to come and attack us like that! He calls the help of what were once our animal friends to come against us and tear down our villages and destroy our crops and pollute our river! I will not tolerate it, but I know he is too strong. I need your help, Bobin." Bobin stopped and stared at Jeshin: The half-orc. What help could an extremely lethal half-orc and his entire colony of skilled barbarians need from him? Bobin Ophenphlis: A dainty, half-elf ranger?

Bobin stood tall, a mere five foot three, and thought. It had to be a pretty formidable being to scare an entire half-orc community into asking a half-elf for help. And what with all the unexplained forest fires here in his own territory, Thigari Forest, there had to be a link between the two sudden outbursts of power. It was most likely the same person.

"Do you know what he calls himself?" Jeshin shook his head.

"We only see his red cape. We call him crimson…but we have no idea what his name is."

"Hmm…Well, it seems as if your sorcerer is causing some wide-spread destruction. I will help you, friend." Bobin looked up at Jeshin's ruddy face. A crudely-cut beard sprouted from his chin and his eyes shone with rage. Compared to having his human and animal hair-donned war helmet on, Bobin thought Jeshin's head looked oddly small and misshapen. The half-orc attempted a smile.

"Good. Let us travel together to Aurinave, my home. We start tomorrow. Meanwhile, we shall stay in the nearby town, Jonain. Is this acceptable?" Bobin nodded.

"Yes, fine. I may just sleep out here in the wilderness. I've never been very accepted within towns." And Jeshin had to agree. With his wild-lined tattoos and feathers knotted into his hair, Bobin did look very undomesticated and, to most humans, appearance made the attitude. Jeshin nodded his head.

"Come…" Bobin cut him off.

"Someone's coming."

"What? Who's coming where? Do we hide?" Jeshin stumbled over his words stupidly. Bobin held his hands up and silenced him before cresting the nearest hill. Beyond him, Bobin say plains stretching about six hundred yards before the forest overtook it. Driving his horse out of the forest was a short male. His back was hunched and he rode close to his white horse's body, as if he would gain speed by staying small. The horse wasn't working too hard, though the ride looked frantic.

"And short," Bobin murmured, noting this peculiarity as he saw it, "Very short." Jeshin stumbled up to the hilltop and accompanied Bobin.

They watched as the rider rode his horse over the plains and both ducked down as soon as he grew near. Bobin put an arrow at the ready in his bow and laid it flat on the ground, prepared to fire as quickly as he could, should the rider bear any harm to them. Jeshin grinned sadistically and ran his thumb lovingly over the tip of his huge battle-axe.

It seemed like time slowed, and both Jeshin and Bobin relished in this glorious adrenaline-high moment.

Without warning, Bobin sprang up from his hiding spot as he heard the hoof-clops thunder up the hill with his delicate ears. He notched the arrow properly and pulled back the string, prepared to shoot.

"STOP!" He roared, his voice thundering across the open space. The man looked up, astonished, and pulled the reigns of his horse backwards in a final attempt to stop his hasty progress. The white beast dragged its hooves and nearly stumbled backwards down the hill's face. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the small man leapt off his horse and approached Bobin with a thick air of caution.

He was about four and a half feet tall with bushy hair and three silver hoops in the top part of his left ear. Across his back rested a small bow and a quiver of arrows, and he wore a plain, brown over-shirt on top of what seemed, by the sound, to be chain-mail. Around his waist he carried a couple of daggers, but nothing more.

"I need to pass. It is of great urgency that I reach the Illithiad Swamps."

"And what is your business there?" Jeshin rose and growled his answer through his teeth. He looked quite dangerous and gruesome if you didn't know his nature. To get to Aurinave, you needed to cross the swamps, and Jeshin seemed very protective, within reason. Bobin cut off Jeshin's interrogations and the orc silenced himself. The half-elf stared at the half-orc, as if to pierce his soul, and shook his head, indicating how stressed the small being looked.

"You are a gnome?" Bobin inquired of him. In return, he received only silence and the curt nod of a head.

"Now, what has you so urgent, friend? Surely you can relate your tale to us?" The small one looked Bobin in the eyes and sighed, giving in to his words.

"I can, but I do not have time. I will tell you this; Someone, a monster of power, has threatened my family and I, kidnapped my child-bearing wife and young daughter, caused havoc with my fields, killed my live-stock! I was able to bear all those things, they happened so long ago, until my family became upon his hands. That I will not tolerate! If you meet anyone of the name White, tell him Chenkin will find him and gut him." Chenkin said, snarling, then turned on his heel back to his horse.

Bobin was intrigued, you could tell by the way his golden-yellow eyes traveled over Chenkin's small frame and the simple chain-mail armour he wore. He gazed at the bow and iron quiver with interest before exclaiming:

"My friend! Stop! We two are also heading towards the Illithiad Swamps. Perhaps it is within your interest to travel with us. We can offer you protection and we will help you defeat this menace. I fear that you may not be able to do this alone. What did you say his name again?"

Chenkin stopped mounting his horse. The half-orc's and the half-elf's eyes were on him: lasers burning into his back. With a sigh, Chenkin faced them, running his hands through his ear-length black hair.

"White, he calls himself White. We've no idea what his name is. He wears a black cloak and a wide-brimmed hat." Jeshin nodded.

"The sorcerer by my home wears a red cape like his. And his hat is the same way too. Is he aged?" Chenkin nodded again, interested in this revelation of similarities.

"You think they're connected somehow?" He pondered. Bobin shrugged.

"We'll find out, I guess. Well, if you refuse our proposal, then…" Chenkin cut him off.

"No, no…I'll travel with you. We may have stumbled upon something. But, if these two people were connected, what are they doing? Strength in numbers is worthy. And they're both so powerful. Wouldn't it be easier to just band together and destroy?" Chenkin asked.

"It does seem so. But for whatever reason they split up, it will be their downfall. We'll hunt both of them and take them down. We have allies in my homeland, and in the surrounding hills. And Bobin's animal friends will be useful too." Jeshin said confidently.

"I cannot provide allies. My home community was destroyed by blink dogs long ago and only I survived in my clan. And our town, Jonain, does not provide much enthusiasm to accept us within its borders. I'm sorry for that inconvenience." Bobin laughed.

"It's all right, friend. We will be triumphant, no matter what odds we are given! What say you we camp here tonight, under the stars? Does that appeal to the party?" Chenkin nodded eagerly, but Jeshin was a little slow on the uptake of the notion.

They set up camp and Jeshin went out and hunted a few rabbits, much to Bobin's distaste and they got into a brawl, arguing over which is better, being a carnivore or a vegetarian until Chenkin split them up and made them sit down and eat their separate meals. An uncomfortable silence weaved through the men until the moon had risen as high as the heaven's peak and smiled fondly at them. They quietly discussed who would take first, second, and third watch. It was settled as Bobin first, Chenkin second, and Jeshin last.

The watch passed smoothly for Bobin, only hearing the harmless wolves in the distance near the end of his round. He woke Chenkin, who batted his hand away and yawned broadly before looking Bobin blearily in the eyes and moaning his discontent. Within minutes, Chenkin had been…'coaxed'…out of bed and was on his watch.

The time flew for Chenkin, though he was a bit more peeved by the wolves than Bobin and soon it was time to wake Jeshin, who became immediately alert and went straight to his watch. Chenkin slept and dreamt of dead babies and men in cloaks…

Upon the next morning, as Chenkin awoke, he noticed two more empty bedrolls and sat up, staring at Bobin as he glared out over the plains, a small leather bag clutched in his left hand. He stumbled to his feet and went to stand next to him, squinting pathetically to see what he saw, but caught nothing out of the ordinary in his gaze.

"Uh….Bobin," He yawned broadly, "What're you doing? Where's Jeshin?" Bobin growled, a look of pure contempt flashing across his face. His hand threw the bag to the ground and its contents spilled; a dusty, sandy, red powder wove out and toyed with the breeze.

"That damn sorcerer took him in the night. Not a sound. An entire half-orc, gone without a goddamn sound! What the heck are we dealing with?"

"They're powerful. I admit, but they have many enemies, we'll find something to do. Jeshin will be alright, he's strong." Chenkin soothed. Bobin seemed a little ruffled, but put away his temper for the moment.

"Alright. We just need to keep a cool head and a sense of information. The next town is just before the Illithiad Swamps, Rendell. We can stop there and retrieve what information the people know of there. Is this alright?" Chenkin nodded.

"Let's go, travel will be easier in the morning than in late afternoon." Bobin nodded, his eyes distant. Chenkin mounted his horse, understanding what Bobin must feel, losing his friend so suddenly. It seemed patchy, like a poorly-written story, that Jeshin would disappear, that the plot thickened so fast without explanation. He held out his hand and tapped Bobin on the shoulder, indicating for him to get up on the horse.

Bobin stared through him, then shook his head, instead, turning his back on him, putting two fingers in his mouth, and letting out a sharp, shrill whistle that resonated through Chenkin's ears. The gnome watched in amazement as a large griffin soared from the treetops in the distance and flew at the pair, wings beating calmly, but allowing for swift movement. It landed with a dull thud and lowered its head to level with Bobin's.

Before a minute had passed, Bobin was soaring on the back of his familiar while Chenkin's mare struggled to keep up.

'I'm coming Jeshin…Just hold on!'

-Existence 2 of 2-

"…Mommy…" A little girl sat alone on a gray stone dais in the middle of a black-stone room. A few torches hinted shadows along the wall and cast a pitiful light upon the small party nestled around the circle. A line of gold weaved its way straight down the center of the room, cutting it neatly into two sections. Two marble columns with a picture of a pentacle on one and the picture of an eye on the other.

"Mommy…" The girl cried out again, pitifully. She was blindfolded and her hands and ankles and knees were tied together. She was laying on her side on the stone platform, unaware of her surroundings or even the people that watched her and waited. A wide, arching door with spells and thick iron beams protecting it opened slowly, and allowed entrance a man in traveler's uniform. Behind him, he drug a woman by her hair, ignoring her cries of pain.

The woman looked hardly older than thirty and she wore a simple dress with little but a leather necklace for jewelry. She looked up when she heard the child's cries, now louder in tone when the two adults had recently entered.

"Sar…" She was backhanded by the traveler.

"Quiet, or your daughter will bear your punishment." Silence thick as mud seeped in to the room. The man closed his eyes and immediately his guise melted away to reveal an aged man in flowing white robes. The gnome looked up in horror at empty, white eyes.

"Welcome, woman, to the home of the great sorcerer, White."

Everything went black.

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Okay…got the next one up finally. I don't know if this one is as good as the previous chapter, but it doesn't matter what I think, it's what all you readers think! So, read and review and tell me how I did: good or bad?


	3. Rivalry Against Survival

Colours Black: Brother Three 

-Existence 1 of 3-

When she awoke, the Gwyn found herself tied and gagged in a dungeon. There were manacles on the walls supporting disfigured skeletons with rotten flesh and moldy clothes. Biting her lip, she resisted the urge to puke and attempted to sit up, ignoring the harsh smells emitted around her. At that moment, the creaky door slid open and a huge being was shoved into the room, his grunts of resistance ringing through the air as several guards threw their weight into getting him inside the room.

Gwyn snapped her eyes shut and pressed her cheek against the rough, cold stonework in the floor, trying to ignore the scene around her. Finally, the sound of a slamming door reverberating off the walls brought her back to her senses and slowly she opened her eyes. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the orc, sitting against the wall, his breathing heavily laboured. He was wearing little but a pair of trousers that fit him snugly and a belt.

Feeling the baby move in her stomach, she brought her knees up as far as they would come and curled into the fetal position. She heard the orc as he snorted and lumbered to his feet. Looking up, she came eye to two with his foot and shied away in surprise.

"Calm down," He whispered, dropping to his knees and reaching over her gently, "I'm going to untie you." Gwyn stilled completely as log-like fingers undid her bindings and helped her sit up. She looked into the face of an orc, a smirk at his lips. Silvery hair was knotted and twisted around his had and a wirey beard sprouted from his chin.

"Thank you, greatly," She murmured.

"It was nothing, I assure you. I am Lothron, head of the Aurinave clan south of the Illithiad Swamps. It is a pleasure to meet you, though the circumstances stand bleak yet." Lothron laughed, a deep growl-like rumble building in his stomach and spilling richly out of his mouth.

"Yes. I am Gwynsestras Zhoomerstah. I live just north of the Swamps. It seems a shame I have never heard of Aurinave." Gwyn replied shyly, her tone soft and low.

"Yes, well, my clan keeps to itself. We are your more docile race of orcish kind, we stay out of fights unless they involve us."

"That sounds like a wonderful place to be leader of. I've always thought all orcish people were barbaric. But please excuse that stereotype, I've never met one like you." Lothron laughed again.

"It's quite alright. I get that type of attitude often. Ignore my prodding, but what is someone like you doing here? Surely you have done nothing to upset the sorcerer?" He asked, moving to rest against the wall again.

"I…I really don't know. I had no idea he even existed. My husband is always protective about me when I'm in pregnancy, but he would never keep something of this magnitude from me. I had heard of the attacks around our town of Jonain, but I'd never even begun to guess who it was. I fear this may be the murderer."

Gwyn began to tremble and the baby shifted in her stomach, giving her the urge to vomit, but she held it back. Tears welled up in her eyes and she closed them, hoping to blot the tears and the dank image around her. Lothron wrapped his hand around her like she was a doll and brought her next to him, his touch gentle around her stomach.

"I do not mean to alarm you, but it is indeed him. I myself was on the way to Jonain to discuss matters with the Elder's Council about numerous fires and murders about my own home when I was taken captive by his magick. How many months are you?" Lothron asked, setting her down next to him. Gwyn felt oddly comforted and at peace as she leaned against his giant thigh, which rose above her petit frame. She noted for the first time, with amazement, how high the ceiling of the dungeon seemed to go.

"Any time now, actually…Oh, I pray it's not here…anywhere but here." The orc grunted.

"Sleep now, Gwyn. You need rest, as you are so close to your expectant date."

"You sound like my husband," She grumbled, but moved up against Lothron and the wall, curling into a ball in the corner it created. Sleep came blissfully as she closed her eyes.

-Existence 2 of 3-

A young girl, hardly older than eleven sat on a stone in the marsh, using a whetstone on her sword, sharpening the edges to a lethal point. It glinted in the morning sun's rays. All around her there was murky water, yellow in tint. Water bugs skated across the surface and mosquitoes whined around her ears, but she just swatted at them irritably.

Standing, she shifted in the light armour she wore. A full, but light, breastplate that fit against her chest with an intricate gold design on it and a white cape attached to the back, white shin plates, and a white helmet that had a grille across her eyes and leaving the other half of her face unprotected gave her an impressive look, despite her young appearance. A bunch of silky unicorn mane strands flowed from the helmet as she placed it on her head.

Looking around, she saw miles of murky waters and small, muddy islands like the one she stood upon. A few scraggly trees and bushes spotted the landscape, but most seemed near the brink of death. Shaking her head, she watched, slightly amused, as the wind toyed with the unicorn strands.

A sudden gust blew from the opposite direction, and she turned around and saw a red dragon hovering above the swampy waters. She seemed hardly a hundred years old as he landed clumsily on an island nearby her own. Cocking her head, she snorted a billow of smoke before speaking in her own tongue to the girl, the words sliding out of her mouth, smooth as grease.

"Solazen," She murmured, "It is high time we made progress out of these swamps. I grow weary of traveling back and forth for you, however nice your company is. Why is it we must slow down at this point?" Solazen looked to the horizon, at the sun's warming rays.

"We are waiting," Solazen replied to the beast in its tongue. She stumbled slightly over the words.

"But for what?" The dragon had switched to the common tongue, "What are we waiting for? The evil mage is almost upon us and still we have gained no more distance! We will be no more if we wait any more!" Solazen seemed to ponder that for a moment.

"Perhaps you are right, Leona. Now may be the time to give up on it," She sighed lightly and ran her hands through the silky unicorn hair strands and turned to her friend.

"Yes. I think it is now that we shall leave."

"Climb upon my back and we'll go, Solazen." Leona reached her ten foot tail over the water to Solazen's small island and waited for her to grasp it before recoiling it and setting her down near her fire-warmed body. In an instant, Solazen was settled in front of Leona's wings and bracing herself for the abrupt take-off that was to come.

"Ready?" Leona breathed. Solazen nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as Leona jumped from the ground and spread her wings, the filmy membranes stretching out to catch the wind. After falling a few harmless feet, Leona gained control of her body and flapped her wings, pulling them ever higher into the sky.

A half hour later, Leona banked her wings and the pair plummeted to the ground, Solazen attempting to keep her eyes open to watch as they fell.

As the ground neared, Leona curtly unrolled her wings and landed neatly on her hind legs before dropping to all fours. Solazen clambered off her back and stood next to her, readjusting the golden scabbard at her hip.

Leona cocked her head so the glare from the nearly-risen morning sun was out of her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Huge cliffs rose and leered down at them, the rock black and forbidding on two sides of them, a pathway cut naturally through the rock. Off in the nearby distance stood a row of giant mountains. Solazen and Leona felt humbled and insignificant at their majestic might.

"We can walk a bit further, if you wish, Solazen." Leona said, again in her tongue.

"Yes. We need to make up for lost time I spent foolishly waiting. We are headed towards that valley," She pointed to the dip between the two highest mountains in the range in front of them, "And to the lake that lies there."

"And why…why would you want to do that?" A voice seeped from the air around Solazen and she glanced wildly around, searching for its source, but finding no one. Her hand went immediately to her sword and Leona growled long and deep, the smoke coming from her nostrils in thick waves.

"Show yourself, sorcerer! I've no time for your useless games!" Solazen yelled, hearing her voice reverberate back to her, echoing a thousand fold. It sounded scared and reckless. But what frightened her the most was that it sounded undeniably young and vulnerable.

"My, my, what an impatient little girl you remain. But, my dear, you've come too close, and you must be eliminated." A wheezy chuckle followed the oily voice and a shadow slid on its own next to Leona, who noticed it all too late. With a roar of surprise, she inhaled, throwing her head back, prepared to use her fire breath, but was blown backwards by some intangible force. With a great crash, the young dragon was propelled into the face of a cliff and broken rocks tumbled upon her.

"Leona! No!" Solazen began to run toward her friend, but a man lumbered over and blocked her way, the skin rotting from the very bone. His teeth were yellowed with age and decay and the bone peeped out in some places where the skin had completely come off. He was completely naked, and Solazen grimaced at the Pelor-awful sight before tightening her features again.

"A zombie! Alright by me!" Solazen yelled, pulling out her sword and sweeping a long arc over her head and splitting the zombie's skull. Still, it persisted, skull fragments falling towards the ground taking labored steps towards her. Solazen took a step back and rushed at the zombie, turning full circle at the last moment, swinging her sword behind her, throwing all her weight into the blow. The zombie, split in half at the waist, fell to the ground, put to rest at last.

Panting, Solazen blessed the corpse.

"May Pelor grant thee entrance, and an everlasting life in His arms." Solazen quickly drew the sign of Pelor over him and turned towards the sorcerer, only to discover he'd disappeared. Growling in rage, she scanned the area, hoping to catch some glimpse of him. She saw nothing, but suddenly began to feel the earth pulse.

A skeleton's hand burst from the ground and clutched Solazen's ankle, but she swung her sword at it and crushed it using the flat side of the metal. It relinquished her ankle, and suddenly, the whole ravine began to roll. Struggling to keep her balance, Solazen rushed over to Leona, who had been uncovered by the sudden violent movement of earth. Shaking her head, the dragon slipped out of the rocks, nearly losing her balance and falling, but she remained upright.

"Are you alright?" Solazen yelled over the now-deafening roar of breaking earth, but she received no answer, for suddenly, skeletal appendages began breaking free of the earth's crust. Grimacing, Solazen stepped back against the cliff face. Skeletons, all different sizes and shapes pulled themselves from the ground. All of their beady red eyes were locked on her and Leona.

Leona leaped into flight and inhaled deeply, trying again to use her dragon breath. A huge arrow of black energies flew out of nowhere and pierced Leona's chest. With a roar of pain, Leona plummeted to the ground far below and hit it with an ear-shattering boom. She didn't move again.

Solazen stood, shocked, at the scene as time seemed to slow. Before she knew it, she had drawn her sword and rushed into the melee, swinging the broadside every which way, not caring what she hit as long as it fell to the ground and didn't move again. Fighting, she made it to Leona's side. Clutching her throat, Solazen cried over the dragon's body. She threw her head back and cried out in full rage at the sorcerer, cursing him for what he'd done.

Without warning, a blinding light erupted from the sky above her, spreading into a huge orb around the ravine, making her shield her eyes against the luminosity. A few seconds later, it receded, and Solazen saw the area with shock: every undead being around her had vanished. The earth had come back together and an angry sorcerer in white robes peered at her over the cliff face, his silvery hair swimming in the breeze.

"You…I will dispose of you later." And he melted into shadows and slunk away.

-Existence 3 of 3-

'Where…am I?' Dorrn asked himself, waking up to blue skies. A man stood above him, scowling. Letting his eyes adjust, Dorrn realized that the man standing over him was…_him_!

"What the…" He -er, the man above him- slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shutup, Dorrn. It's Killa!" The scowl deepened further.

"Killa? What are you talking about? You're me! So who am I? No! I am me, and you're an imposter! Ugh! This is too confusing!" he yelled, sitting up, realizing they were in a yellowing field. The man –imposter, copy, whatever!- reached into Dorrn's hip pocket and drew out a mirror.

'Funny…I don't remember having that!' Dorrn's copy held he mirror up to his face.

"Someone switched us." The man said. Dorrn stopped breathing and screamed. In the mirror was Killa's face!

He was in Killa's body!

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I finished another chapter O.o I'm working quickly…wow. Anywho, I think the chapters are getting worse as we go, so I may do some revisions on the other chapters, unless you guys just really like them -.-' The review me and tell me how I did! I love reading what you people thought!

READ THIS! READ THIS! READ THIS!: This last scene will be explained later, okay? So don't freak out or anything!

Ja everybody!


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